


Security

by FeiFeiKara



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Non-Consensual, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeiFeiKara/pseuds/FeiFeiKara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living a normal  life was often difficult for you, what with the constant paranoia. There was always this distinct feeling of being watched, strange voices in the dark. Similar to the song of the siren, you've been drawn to that darkness since you were very small. Convincing yourself the voices and shadows were just dreams was one thing, but how can you convince yourself it's a dream when you're finally face to face with those cold, familiar gold eyes.</p>
<p>(Fill for the ROTG Kink Meme)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Security

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: ((I apologize to the world and I’m aware I’m going to hell. Written for the ROTG Kink Meme request. Not necessarily a fill I wanted to write, but it needed to get out of the way before any others could be opened. Hopefully some will enjoy it. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.))
> 
> **WARNING:** (2,681 Words) (Pitch/Fem!Reader) NSFW, non-con, bondage _(Please don’t read if this is a trigger for you)_

When your eyes open, all you can see is black. It wasn’t the typical blackness you’re used to while struggling to sleep at night. This was pitch-black and paired with a nagging feeling which sends your sixth sense into overdrive. Your heart beats a little faster and the temporary paralysis in your limbs slowly wears off. The second thing you notice is the smell. There was dampness, a musky scent. A fearful thought crossed your mind, that it was almost…familiar?

Your body didn’t give you enough time to elaborate on the thought, because the third and final thing you notice sends you into useless panic, arms writhing against what you knew to be binding. In your lifetime you’ve never had a nightmare like this. Your mind couldn’t catch up with you, and for one moment a different emotion crossed your psyche before fear took its place: Curiosity. Where were you? Who was doing this to you? Where you dreaming? Curiosity mingled with terror kept you thrashing against the binds, giving your dry throat the leverage it needed to call out. 

“Hello?” Voice cracking, your eyes desperately try to adjust, but the cloth you felt against your skin puts an end to that attempt. Finally, all at once, a voice penetrates the eerie silence; the voice of your captor.

“Tears don’t suit you.” The man had a smooth, yet seductive voice. It made you reminisce of something almost gentle. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until then. Chilled fingers stroked your jaw, feathering their way up to gather the fallen tears. 

“Who are you?” Your voice is amazingly calm.

There was an awkward pause before he spoke, “An old friend…” Those same fingers drifted lower, past your neck to brush against the thin material of your night shirt. “I don’t expect you to remember me.”

“R-remember…?” Your breath hitched, a second hand touching at your thigh. Your captor gripped the fabric of your night shirt only to push it up further and further, until it remained just underneath your breasts. 

His voice broke through your temporary panic, the gentleness in his tone vanishing, “You don’t need to remember.” It was a natural reflex of yours, wrists battling the strange binding once more, as if it would make a difference. 

“Please…” Voice weak, your pink lips parted and your skin chilled at his tender touch. “I-I just want to go home.” 

He laughed. It wasn’t pleasant, more-so mocking you. 

“…Wha--”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this.” His hateful aura made you feel like you could actually see his scowl from behind your blindfold. “You’re trembling under my touch.” Pausing, both of his hands now rested on your stomach, either side of your navel. Thin fingers fanned, adding pressure and slowly beginning to move upwards. You sucked in another breath at the slight scraping of his nails. A leaf quivering in a thunderstorm would be the perfect analogy to describe you, or maybe if pure terror could be taken from a simple emotion, and given dimension; a body.

“Please. Just, stop.” You begged, a voice so small it was bound not to be taken seriously. 

“No.” His answer was a matter of fact, quick. “I have my reasons for keeping you here.”

“W-why?” Finally, his hands drifted underneath your night shirt and any composure you had burnt away like a frail candle wick. “H-hah…” Desperately, you tried to twist away from his touch, but your squirming only amused him.

“Why? I’ve taken a liking to you. You need any other reason?” The bed-frame cried as he shifted his weight between your legs, long torso hovering over you. Feeling his cool breath against your neck made your stomach plummet. You had to fight the bile attempting to rise in your throat. This wasn’t right, any of it. You just knew this wasn’t a dream or…a nightmare. This felt too real.

“I told you, your body is enjoying it.” He purred, the seductive words pouring from his mouth like butter. No way to escape, you just stayed motionless, chest heaving while his hands kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts. 

“Your fear is intoxicating.” 

There wasn’t an ounce of confidence left inside of you to spurt a rebuttal. Remaining silent, you turned your head to the side, pink lips quivering against the overwhelming embarrassment, the defilement. Shrinking away was impossible. The feeling of his cold hands against your sensitive skin made heat pool between your legs, however unwanted it was.

You whimpered when he used his index and thumb to brush against your nipples. He pulled at them softly, making you blush and struggle against your bonds further. 

“S-stop.” You were frantic, his cool breath dangerously close to your chest. You weren’t fully aware of the panic attack you were having until his lips wrapped around a sensitive bud, the strong muscle inside his mouth twirling against the tip. An unwelcome and violent shiver swept through you and the tears began to fall again. 

A momentary breath of relief escaped you when he lifted his head to speak, “Would you like me to ease your fears? Tell you this is all a nightmare?”

“B-but it…isn’t…” You cried, lump in your throat painful as you choked on your sobs. 

His lips vibrated against your skin with a hum, “Maybe, maybe not.” Again, his tongue flicked forward, giving the opposite pink bud the same treatment. 

“Which is it?”

An eerie chuckle left him. “I feed from your terror. I’m only going to tell you what you want to hear. Reap the benefits of your baffled, terrified psyche.” He paused, shifting his weight and removing his mouth from your skin. “Maybe I’ll jog your memory. I’ve watched a lot of children and adults throughout the many years I’ve been alive.” He paused, “From the dark.” 

His thumbs hooked the elastic of your panties, slowly pulling them down your supple thighs. Again, your breath stuttered.  
“Of course, none of them have ever received too much, or too little of my attention. I tend to be fair with my time. That is, until I found you. You interest me. Can you guess?”

Your stomach fluttered painfully, and you were able to hear your pulse in your ears. “G-guess?”

“Who I am?”

Entire body shaking, your lips parted to say something only to shut again. Stray tears escaped the absorption of the blindfold, pooling against the hollows of your neck.  
“I d-don’t know!” You cried, fingers clenching and unclenching, trying to regain feeling in your wrists. “I don’t know…I don’t.”

He clicked his tongue as if to scold you, “Come now, surely you have some idea?”

You stuttered, “I-I…”

His chuckle was again, unsettling with an added tinge of darkness, evil. “I haunt your dreams, keep you up at night…I bring nightmares. I’m that nagging feeling of someone watching.” His cold lips made contact with your navel and you shuddered, automatically tensing. “I’m that cool draft.”

“A-ahh…I…”

“Guess.” He ordered, rounding his lips to blow cold breath against your lower abdomen, tickling the hot feeling already there. 

“M-monster…” You trembled, lips curled downwards. You were afraid, afraid of what you would discover.

“You’re getting warmer little lamb.” 

His touch was blinding. Every move he made felt like slow motion for you, his sharp teeth now scraping against your stomach, thin fingers digging into the flesh at your hips.

“B-boogie-man…” You panted, the rest of your skin turning pale white, matching the color of your abused, circulation-cut wrists. “P-pitch…”

“Correct. You get an award.” He hissed, nipping against the flesh of your hip. You bucked forward, a small whimper falling from your pink lips.

“D-don’t!” You fretted, feeling Pitch’s hands glide along your inner thighs, spreading and lifting your legs around his lithe waist. They trembled against his hands.

“Do you wish to see me?” Pitch asked.

“Nnngg…” Choking again on your own tears, you violently shook your head from side to side. Your face stung red from the salty tears, eyes burning. You didn’t want to see him, to watch him rape you? 

“I remember you…j-just fine….p-please…d-don’t. I’m begging you. Just let me go. Please.” Your voice was terrified, shaking on every syllable. “Please!”

His voice turned cold, the seductive edge gone. “Cry all you want.” 

“N-no!” Your wrists were threatening to bleed, arms aching from thrashing so much. Part of you knew this wouldn’t help your situation and that you’d be better off not fighting, but you couldn’t help it. The logic in your mind was overthrown by your heart, terrified of his touch, of his voice, the inevitable pain. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time little lamb.” He whispered, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your entrance, brushing past the folds. 

You bit your lip, hard enough to bleed. The feeling of his fingers so close to your center made your mind begin to shut down. It wasn’t like you could do anything, even if you wanted to. Aimless begs fell from your lips like prayer, hoping that some fragment, some hidden good of his conscience would force him to stop. One last plea wouldn’t hurt, right? 

“S-stop.” If your hands were free, you would push at him; scrape your nails against his face. Maim him beyond repair. 

He shushed you, voice sounding caring once again, but you knew it was a farce. When his first finger breached your entrance, pressing forward to his last knuckle, you thought yourself better off dead. The little warmth you felt earlier did nothing to ease the entry. The feeling was beyond uncomfortable and you tightened your calves around his waist, trying to even your breathing. Again, fear made you blind to logic, panic filling every vein.

“D-don’t!” You yelled, body automatically tensing up. Clenching around Pitch’s fingers only earned you an amused chuckle.

“You’re only making it hard on yourself. Don’t blame me if you bleed.” His voice was once again stern. You tried your best to relax, fearing the worst but eventually you found it impossible. 

“C-can’t…hurts! I don’t want you.” Sobs shake your body, lips curling into a pained expression. Another finger began to push forward along with the first and your mouth opened wide, gasping. There wasn’t a way to describe the feeling. Uncomfortable and painful were two ways. Perhaps unbearable, miserable. Pitch curled the digits deep inside and a shooting pain coursed through you. 

“Do you know how long I’ve watched you? How long I’ve wanted this?”

His voice was hardly heard over the sounds of your own whimpers and cries. Again, you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. Everything was a blur, an unbelievable, painful blur. Suddenly, his free hand was grabbing the fabric obscuring your vision and he ripped it from your face. Your eyes were large, petrified much like a doe against headlights.  
“I don’t w-want…” You began, turning your head to bury against your arm. “I don’t want to s-see you…” Legs trembled against his waist, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. 

“I want you to see me.” The fingers inside you began to scissor, another searing-hot pain swept through you. Roughly, his free hand gripped your chin, digging into the soft skin. Yanking forward, he forced you to face him just as he pulled out his thin fingers. 

“H-hah…” Relief flooded over you, but it was all for naught. You knew what was to come next.

“I’ve watched you since you were a child. I’ve waited long enough.” 

Your pink lips slightly parted, eyes opening slowly. Your tears obscured your vision but you knew him. You didn’t have to see him to remember what he looked like. Pitch, the man haunting you on nights where you just wanted a peaceful sleep. Pitch, always there, looming in the darkness. He was that pair of eyes you always felt on your back walking down the empty hallways of school, or when you took a walk in the woods at dawn. Whispers of your name when you were on the verge of sleep, Hypnagogia they called it. Your entire body shivered as his body leaned forward. 

“No.” You cringed, his hand holding your chin stationary as his cool breath mingled with your warm. His lips crashed against yours harshly and you could only mumble your protests, arms thrashing. 

“It’ll be over soon.” He reassured you, and you vaguely noticed his hand shifting between your legs and his. Not being able to close your eyes, they were wide, staring at the dark rock above you. The damp cave was making it hard to breathe as well as his lips on yours. You could do nothing but whimper as he prepared his erection, the very tip teasing your folds. He gently pressed forward about an inch or two, only to pull back as if testing the waters.

“So warm.” He hummed, lips opening against yours. You didn’t return the favor, trying to force them into a thin line. Your once large eyes were clenched shut, bracing for the moment he would take it all from you: Your sanity, virginity, security. 

Without a plausible warning, Pitch suddenly snapped his hips forward and in an instant, he was buried to the hilt inside of your tight heat. Your mouth opened with a silent scream, head thrown back against the black silk pillow. The pain was beyond excruciating, and you thought it similar to an image of a phone book being torn in half. Maidenhead stretched further than prepared, you were not ready, hardly any lubricant available. It wasn’t like he used any for your comfort. Your ego couldn’t even feel the slightest tinge of pride at the husky whimper that escaped Pitch’s lips. All you felt was hate, anger and pain. 

He panted against your jaw as he began to move, hips thrusting shallowly against you. Pale fingers wound into your hair as if to anchor himself. Unable to stop your sobs, you tried to hide, to shrink into the recesses of your mind. You tried to ignore the sound of the headboard hitting the wall of the cave, tried to ignore the searing pain shooting through your nerves.

“Nnn.” Small, insignificant whines were trapped in your throat, allowed to escape only at times where you couldn’t help it. You hated it because it only fueled his arrogance, fingers yanking at your hair harder, hips pivoting rougher, quicker. 

“A-ahh.” The noises he made only proved that he was enjoying himself thoroughly, and his jagged teeth nipped at your ear. You barley registered him whispering ‘mine’ against you before his thrusts began to slow. You were beyond numb and the feeling of him moving inside hardly fazed you anymore, your legs remaining around his waist, hips stationary. You clenched around him accidentally at times, yet another thing you couldn’t help.

“Y-you’re mine…little lamb.” Pitch panted, biting down on the delicate skin just underneath your jaw as he rutted to his release, seed flooding your insides. And just like that, it was done. Using his hands, he lifted from you, golden eyes striking as he stared at you. His hair was mussed and he pulled out of you, much to your relief.

The corners of his lips lifted into a devilish smirk, jagged teeth flashing. “I think I’ll keep you.” 

The lump in your throat finally fell, and you swallowed dryly, eyes unblinkingly staring up at him. Your hands had already gone limp against the binding, body slumped. There was nothing you could say to him. Definitely there was nothing you could say to convince yourself everything was okay. For once, out of all the times you’ve suffered through your nights, you clenched your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You tried to block out his tender kisses to your neck, as well as his mutterings of ‘sorry.’ Over and over, like it was the only word he knew anymore. 

…And finally, you wished this would all be a dream once you woke up in your bed, everything taken from you intact. 

You willed yourself to fall asleep, longing for your security.


End file.
